The Will
by JessieBess
Summary: It's 1930 and the Crawley family are adjusting to the realities of their current world when the reading of a Last Will and Testament shakes that world. They would never have imagined how an event in 1919 would come back to haunt all of them.
1. Chapter 1

_**This combines two story ideas I had. The first part is one of the first ideas I ever had for a story but never wrote. The second part is how I originally envisioned the ending (or continuation) of We Will Find a Way.**_

 **Downton Abbey 1930**

Since receiving the last will and testament and the accompanying instructions, Mr. Murray had dreaded the meeting he would have with the Crawleys. He knew the contents of the will would not be taken well by them. He had been surprised at the terms of the will and he thought, no he knew, they would be shocked.

He left a bit early for the railway station because he wanted to be sure he caught the next train leaving for York which would enable him to change to the smaller branch line that served Downton. He needed one of the office clerks to accompany him to the railway station to help carry the three boxes that had come with the will. He had no idea what the boxes contained other than some jewelry but with the size of the boxes there had to be other personal effects of the deceased that were to be passed on to the addressees. Murray was surprised by such sentimentality since neither the deceased nor the heirs seemed sentimental in the least.

This was a journey with a mission he didn't really want to do but was required to do so by virtue of his position. For a fleeting moment he had thought he could just have the documents and the three boxes delivered to the Crawleys by messenger but he knew that that was not the proper way for the longtime family solicitor to deliver such news, no such news had to be delivered in person.

He had been the Crawley family solicitor for most of his adult life inheriting the family's affairs from his father who had been their solicitor until his death. Although he liked Robert Crawley, he did find him to be like so many of his class who demanded privilege and respect due to their wealth and title rather than any personal merits. Men who felt that anyone not of their class, that is titled men and preferably inherited titles passed from generation to generation and not those self-made men whose wealth bought them titles, were there primarily to serve them. While Robert might have a brandy or whiskey when visiting his office or offer him refreshments when he traveled to Downton, Murray was under no illusions that the two would ever meet for dinner under other circumstances.

Men like Robert Crawley were having trouble realizing the world was changing. The lifestyle of the first part of the century was gone, the country, indeed the world was changing. There were better job opportunities today than being a servant, opportunities for a growing middle class with a better standard of living. Some inventions of this century made life easier and negated the necessity for so many servants in a household such as that at Downton while also presenting new job opportunities in manufacturing, sales and repair and maintenance. But for people like Robert Crawley, and his daughters, these changes were only good if they enabled them to maintain their lifestyle of paying calls, attending parties, riding in hunts, in other words an idle life.

Murray made the train with minutes to spare. He had a car to himself with only the three boxes taking one of the other seats. For once it would have been nice to have traveling companions preferably ones that could for a few hours take his mind off his unpleasant task.

While he had of course fully read the will, he was not privy to the contents of the three letters that had been sent with the will. They were sealed and to be opened only by the intended recipients as were the boxes. He assumed these letters explained why the will had been written the way it was.

As usual there was a motor car waiting for him at the railway station. However this motor car was not driven by a chauffeur dressed in the green livery as in years past. It was Matthew Crawley himself that had driven to the station to meet him.

Mr. Murray reflected that Matthew was different from the rest of them. He had been thrust into a position that he had neither aspired to nor demanded as his birthright. Maybe because he had been born and raised as part of the upper middle class, Matthew Crawley was better prepared and accepting of a changing world. It was his determination and ideas that had kept Downton running and the Crawleys wealthy albeit not quite the wealth of earlier generations. Heaven knows, thought Mr. Murray, if it had been only Robert Crawley at the helm probably everything would have been lost for after all it was Robert that had lost most of his wife's fortune through an unwise investment. And it was Robert that fought Matthew on so many of his ideas for improving the way Downton operated. No, Mr. Murray reflected, Downton would have been lost years ago in Robert had been solely in charge of it.

The past few years had been hard on the Crawleys and they could no longer live the luxurious lifestyle of prior generations of Crawleys. Gone were the chauffeur, ladies maids, and much of the household staff. Mr. Murray knew that the family expected this will and last testament would deliver the much needed funds to restore the family's grand lifestyle.

But he couldn't dwell on that now. No he would deliver the information as required and then make a hasty retreat back to London.

"They are waiting in the library sir" Thomas announced as he opened the door to Matthew and Mr. Murray. Although it had been several years, Mr. Murray still had trouble picturing anyone but Mr. Carson as the Downton butler. He had been surprised when he heard that Mr. Carson had married the housekeeper Mrs. Hughes. He had always that Carson to be too curmudgeonly to romance anyone. Shortly after their marriage, the two retired and moved somewhere to the south or was it to the coast? He had no idea if either were still alive.

They were gathered in the library waiting for him. All of the Crawleys were there except for one and ironically that one was the one that would have the most effect on those gathered here. After the niceties of greetings and offer of refreshments, everyone, including most of all Mr. Murray who just wanted to get this meeting over with, wanted to get down to business. As Mr. Murray looked at their expectant faces he had a twinge of dread once again. Their expectations would not be met by his information; no they would be sorely disappointed.

 **Downton Abbey 1919**

"You can't be serious" Robert thundered at his youngest daughter. "You and the chauffeur?"

Sybil and the chauffeur just stood there holding hands looking defiantly at her family. Although it had started out shakily, they had gotten strength from each other.

"This is just madness" Robert again yelled at the two.

"Papa" Sybil said in a calm voice that belied her anger and her fear. "I love Tom and he loves me. We are going to get married."

"How long has this been going on?" inquired Cora hoping that as information came to light the situation could be dealt with more rationally.

"We've been friends since before the war" Sybil began.

"Since before the war!" Cora and Robert voiced simultaneously although they came to very different conclusions with Cora realizing that her daughter was serious about the chauffeur while Robert was indignant of the improper behavior that had been going beneath his nose.

"All this time you've been driving me about; bowing and scraping while seducing my daughter behind my back."

"I don't bow and scrape, and I've not seduced anyone" Tom replied angrily. He took a step forward towards Robert but Sybil tugged on his arm. "Give you daughter some credit for knowing her own mind."

"How dare you talk to me like that" Robert bellowed.

"How dare you think I can be seduced Papa" Sybil retorted. "I can think for myself."

"Oh really" Robert replied sarcastically. "Have you thought about what this means. No one will accept you married to the chauffeur. You will be banned from all the great houses. Think about the effect this will have on this family especially your sisters."

"I am sorry for that … for any pain it will cause Mary or Edith … but I don't care what society thinks. I don't care what …"

"Sybil dear" Cora interrupted her "you have to think about these things. You have to care about the effect of your actions."

Surprisingly Violet had sat there quietly watching and listening to the volley going on between her son, his wife and her granddaughter. "The family cannot be exposed to scandal. I'm sure Sybil you think you are in love but if you give it a few days, I'm sure you'll see what a bad idea this is."

Sybil rolled her eyes at her grandmother's words. She had thought about this for years. "I have thought about this for years since Tom first proposed to me Granny. I was afraid of losing my family, my friends, my home but now I know that I want to be with Tom."

"Years!" Cora and Violet both exclaimed at once. But whatever thoughts they hoped to express were drowned out by Robert's bellowing. He obviously was so intent on his own thoughts that he hadn't heard Sybil's remarks to her Granny or at least hadn't filtered what she had said.

"Oh yes your lifestyle" Robert began. "If you leave with him your life style will be very different. There will be no money."

"I don't need your money" Sybil threw it right back at her father.

A hushed silence finally enveloped the room while everyone mulled over the words that had been issued from both sides.

It was Robert that finally broke the silence "I won't allow it. I will not allow my daughter to throw away her life!"

"You can posture all you like Papa, it won't make any difference."

Robert had had enough. "Enough of this nonsense. You will either tell this man to leave or you will leave with him this instant. But if you leave you will not return to this house ever again."

Sybil blanched at the harsh words of her father. "Papa please listen to me …"

But Robert was done listening. "You will no longer be welcomed here and you will no longer be a part of this family. It is your decision."

Sybil looked pleadingly at her mother, her sisters, her granny but they all sat there in stony silence pointedly looking away from her.

"That's it then" Sybil quietly said. She took Tom's hand once again and turned to leave the room. No one said a word as the couple walked out of the drawing room and then out of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Downton Abbey 1930**

Matthew had been pleasant, as always, on the drive from the railway station to the house. Their conversation was not on the purpose of Mr. Murray's visit but rather on Matthew's latest idea for improving crop production. Murray thought it was always interesting to hear Matthew's ideas for he had shown that he was a deep thinker and open to new methods of farming or for whatever would make Downton more profitable yet he also always seemed to consider the effects it would have on the tenants or other employees. While they exchanged pleasantries about the weather, inquiries as to Mr. Murray's train trip, and Matthew's new plans for the estate, it didn't escape Murray's notice that not one word was spoken about the deceased or the purpose of his visit here today.

After being shown into the library where the family was waiting him, Murray

accepted Robert's offer of tea as a way of bracing himself for this duty. Other than Robert mentioning that he hoped Mr. Murray's travels had been pleasant there was no small talk. Now that he was here and actually facing them, he wasn't so anxious to begin. He knew from experience that it is never a good thing to bring disappointment to those expecting something good.

The various Crawley family members seated themselves with Lady Mary and Cora sharing one of the red couches while Robert and Lady Edith sat on the couch opposite. Matthew Crawley sat on a chair that had been moved just behind the couch so that his hand could rest on his wife's shoulder. A chair and small table had been placed in front, well actually to the side, but in-between the two couches. Murray was to sit there with his paperwork spread on the table in front of him. Lady Mary and Lady Edith had positioned themselves so they were sitting closest to Mr. Murray.

He noted that Lady Mary and Lady Edith both seemed excited as if it was Christmas eve and they were awaiting Father Christmas to deliver their presents. Robert also had an air of cordial anticipation. Only Cora Crawley seemed somber. He also noted that she was the only member of the household dressed in black.

There was no polite chit chat, it was quite evident that they just wanted to get to the purpose of his visit. Mr. Murray looked hesitantly at those sitting eagerly before him and sighed deeply before stating "I did not write this last will and testament as I was not Mrs. Levinson's solicitor. Her New York solicitor contacted me as the Crawley family solicitor and gave me detailed instructions as to his client's wishes as well as sending me a copy of the will. He did not offer any explanations as to the contents of the will."

"Rather than read the entire will I'll just discuss the parts most relevant to all of you. I have copies that you can read later" Mr. Murray continued nervously as all eyes in the room were glued on him.

He then stood, picked up one of the boxes he had brought with him and walked over to Cora so he could hand her the box. "This contains personal belongings of Mrs. Levinson that she thought you would want. There are also two crates that were shipped directly to Downton and should arrive soon."

Cora dabbled a handkerchief at her eyes before taking the box from him and placing it beside her on the couch. Mr. Murray then continued "There is also this letter." He didn't know the contents of the letter but he assumed it would explain Mrs. Levinson's actions.

Walking back to his seat, he continued "You will continue to get your monthly personal allowance. The amount remains the same and it will continue until your death."

"These are for each of you" he said as he picked up the two remaining packages and handed them to Lady Mary and Lady Edith. Although he had not seen what was actually within the packages, he knew from the instructions that they contained some keepsake jewelry of unknown value but wasn't sure of what else.

"In addition there are these personal letters" he stated as he handed each woman the letter addressed to her. He had noted when he received the materials that the letters were addressed in Mrs. Levinson's handwriting.

Both women eagerly opened the packages. After glancing at the jewels and the other odds and ends enclosed, they each opened their letters. There was a gasp from Lady Mary followed quickly by one from Lady Edith.

"This can't be right Mr. Murray" Lady Mary was adamant. "Our grandmother was worth a fortune and this is all she left us."

Lady Edith nodded in agreement then offered hopefully "maybe it all goes to Mama."

"No, as I just stated your mother will continue to get her monthly allowance but that is all other than what is in that box and the crates that are in transition."

"But how can that be? Who gets the rest? Harrold?" Surprisingly it was Robert who asked the questions that were on everyone's mind.

"As you will see when you read the will, Mrs. Levinson wrote that during her lifetime she had given quite a bit to both Lady Grantham and her son Harrold. She felt it was enough for them to make their way in this world. In addition, both Lady Mary and Lady Edith have the trust funds that were set up by their grandfather, the late Mr. Levinson."

"Who?" Mary demanded cutting off Murray's explanations. "Who is getting the rest?"

"There are some small bequeaths of money and personal objects to Mrs. Levinson's household staff and a few charities which you can read later in the will itself." It was time for Mr. Murray to come to the part he had dreaded telling the family assembled before him.

"There is also a sizeable bequest of money to fund a Levinson Mother and Child Care Clinic" he anxiously looked around the room at those in front of him "the said clinic will be in Dublin and the funds will be administered by Mrs. Levinson's granddaughter Sybil Branson."

"What?" Edith cried out as at the same time Mary cried "Sybil?"

Cora, who had been looking down at the unopened envelope she gingerly held in her hands, raised her head to look directly at Mr. Murray with a look that he couldn't decipher. He paused, taking a deep breath as well as a sip of his now cold tea, before delivering the final bequest. He looked down at his copy of the last will and testament of Martha Levinson to read to those gathered before him exactly what she had written.

"All of my property not specifically provided for elsewhere in this will, including my house in New York and all its contents, my other land holdings, as well as any investments and financial instruments including all money, bonds and the like, are left to my granddaughter Sybil Branson.

At those words there were several loud gasps and then a shocked silence enveloped the room. No further sound or movement was made.

 **London 1922**

Sybil decided she needed to take a break. After making tea, she took the steaming cup, along with a couple of biscuits, and returned to the sitting room. Much of the floor space was now taken up with packing crates but there was space to make her way to the sofa.

After sitting down on the comfortable sofa, she looked around the room as if she wanted to take in every nook and corner and commit it to memory. Tomorrow she would leave this flat for the final time.

But it was not with sadness that she looked around the room that had been her home for the past three years. No, she thought, there had been so much happiness in this place that it would be fond memories she would carry with her to their new home in Dublin.

In this flat a new phase of her life had begun for it was here that she and Tom had begun their marriage. In this flat she had made love to Tom for the first time. It was in this flat that the child now growing inside her was conceived.

She ran her hand over her small protruding belly. "It's actually because of you little one that we are leaving London" she spoke then chuckled as she continued speaking to the child growing within her "I think your father is afraid of you having an English accent."

Although she chuckled, Sybil knew that was somewhat true. They had always talked about eventually moving to Dublin but had never set any time limit as to when. Tom had worked his way up from proof reader and errand boy to full time journalist at the newspaper. It had been over a year ago, that he had stopped working as a mechanic to supplement his income as his salary increased at the newspaper. Sybil had become a floor supervisor at the hospital.

But now, with her pregnancy, it seemed like a good time to move. She had to stop working this past month. She had been lucky that she was able to keep her job as a married woman and even more so when she became pregnant. However, now in her sixth month and decidedly showing, she was let go. She probably would have left anyway within another month or so since the work was taking more of a physical toll on her for she tired easily now and even moving around was becoming a bit more difficult.

As soon as he had known about the pregnancy, Tom had begun contacting newspapers in Ireland to inquire about available positions. Finally, not quite two months ago he had been offered a position. Although the political situation in Ireland was still a bit dicey, Tom wanted to go home.

It would be nice for the baby to be surrounded by an extended loving family. Children should have a grandmother and aunts and uncles and cousins thought Sybil. Heaven knows her child wouldn't have that here in London.

Tears did well up in her eyes as she thought for the first time since she had known she was pregnant that her child would never know her side of the family. It had been so long that Sybil rarely thought about them. She had buried the hurt deep within her but she had been hurt there was no denying that.

She had thought that once they had gotten over the shock of her and Tom's announcement that night they would forgive her. She had sent them invitations to her wedding, along with personal notes, but only Isobel and Matthew had responded. While Matthew had sent his good wishes and a gift, only Isobel had attended the wedding held at the small Catholic chapel in London.

Just days before the wedding she received a small package that contained a pair of blue sapphire and diamond earrings and the delicate matching necklace. The package contained no letter just a note that said _Something old … something blue_

Yet Sybil knew they were from Granny. Since she was a young girl she had loved that earring and necklace set, drawn to the striking blue of the sapphires set among the sparkling diamonds, would always comment on it when Granny wore it, thinking it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Granny had told her when Sybil was a young teen that it would be a gift to her on her wedding day and she had kept that promise now very much to Sybil's surprise.

The gift had brought forth the tears that up to that point Sybil had been able to hold in. Then those tears had dissolved in anger. If her Granny thought enough to send her the jewelry why hadn't she, at the very least, sent a letter. Did this mean in some small way that she approved of Sybil's wedding and gave her consent she wondered.

In the end Sybil didn't wear the earrings and necklace on her wedding day for she had come to consider them a representation of her past. Her wedding day was about the future, not the past. She wouldn't be reminded of those not in attendance; she'd only take joy in those who attended.

The earrings and necklace remained in their satin lined boxes, never worn by Sybil, yet carefully packed away.

Sybil had tried again to reconnect with her family that first Christmas. She sent them each cards with a handwritten letter describing her life and her desire to remain in contact. It was Christmas, her first away from the family, it had been almost a full year since she had left, surely they had had time to reconsider, surely they had missed her.

But there had been no response except for a package that came with no note. Yet Sybil once again knew the beautifully embroidered tablecloth and matching napkins and the set of twelve silver coffee spoons was from Granny. Like the jewelry that had come before her wedding, these things remained wrapped in the tissue paper they had come in and unused.

She didn't know why but she was hurt. They didn't know what a wonderful man Tom was and never would. They wouldn't accept that she was leading the life she wanted. After that Christmas, Sybil made no further attempt to contact her family, her hurt had turned to anger and then resignation. Only Isobel wrote her occasionally or sent a card and had visited her twice when she had come to London.

When her father had said that society would no longer accept her, Sybil hadn't really comprehended what he was talking about, maybe her invitations to social gatherings would be cut off but that would be the extent of it. However, she had discovered what he meant when unexpectedly she saw two old friends walking towards her on a London street.

The smile on Sybil's face as she walked towards her friends crumbled when the two, finally spying Sybil, stared at her blankly for a moment or two and then hurriedly crossed the street to avoid her. As Sybil stood there staring after them, she knew they had seen her for when safely on the other side of the street and down a few yards they had turned around for a quick look at Sybil and then turned their backs once again while talking animatedly.

The only friend from her pre-London days that still talked to her was sweet, silly, kind hearted Imogen. They would meet regularly for tea or lunch. Imogen had visited Sybil and Tom in this flat for dinner and attended a couple of the parties the couple had hosted. Although Imogen had invited Sybil to dinner parties at her house, Sybil knew enough to have the graciousness to never attend. She didn't want Imogen to become a pariah like herself.

Other than Isobel, who really was only distant family, the only family member to stay in contact with Sybil was her Grandmama in America. Although she was unable to attend the wedding on such short notice, she did send a lovely crystal vase (to be filled with beautiful flowers from a dutiful husband the accompanying note read) and a generous check.

Martha had also reminded Sybil that she was entitled to the trust fund set up by her late grandfather. Martha had even gone so far as to contact Mr. Murray to ensure that Sybil received access to the trust after reminding him that the trust fund was Levinson money and in no way controlled by Robert Crawley nor part of the Downton estate.

It was money from that trust fund that had enabled Sybil and Tom to buy the flat that Sybil was now sitting in drinking her tea. The flat that they had now sold in anticipation for their move to Ireland. In fact, with the money from the sale of the flat, they had bought an apartment building.

Sybil chuckled for while that sounded rather grand, the building was only two stories with two identical flats on each floor. The flats had a large sitting and dining room combination like her current London flat, a kitchen large enough to have a table to eat their meals at, a bath, and two large bedrooms.

She and Tom were moving into one of the first floor flats while his mother and two sisters had already moved into the other first floor flat. It had taken a lot of talk to get Tom's mother to agree to move, talk not only from Tom and Sybil but also her other children. Sybil wanted to eventually go back to nursing and Tom's mother had already committed to watching the baby. In exchange for living rent free, Mrs. Branson had insisted on that arrangement as well as being the building manager. The current tenants in the upstairs flats were remaining despite the change in ownership of the building and Mrs. Branson would ensure rents were paid on time and repairs were taken care of.

Since her wedding, Martha had always been generous with gifts to Sybil and Tom on birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. She had visited with them on the two occasions she had come to England treating them to dinners and even the theatre once.

On her first visit, Sybil had taken time off to spend with her grandmother seeing some of the London sights. Of course Martha also insisted on taking her granddaughter shopping. To Martha's astonishment Sybil wasn't really that interested in buying new dresses or hats but if Martha insisted on buying something she was more interested in something for the flat.

"Since I wear a uniform to work Grandmama, and most of our social engagements are nights out at the pub with friends, I don't need a large wardrobe" Sybil had informed Martha.

"Well everyone needs something new every now and then" Martha had insisted.

"If you insist on buying me something I'd rather it be something for the flat" Sybil had replied. "We're still trying to furnish it."

While Sybil had in mind blankets or tablecloths or some such stuff, it was a beautiful mahogany dining table and chairs with a matching hutch that Martha insisted on buying. Sybil had to steer Martha to a much smaller set reminding her that she didn't have a dining room that could seat 20.

"I very much enjoyed the delicious dinner you cooked for me last night" Martha had said. And then added laughingly "but you must admit that old rickety table and chairs took away some of the ambiance."

"But Grandmama this is just too much. I don't expect you to buy such extravagances for me" Sybil replied.

While Martha thought Sybil and Tom's flat was charming, she was surprised that they hadn't bought something much larger. The one bedroom flat was roomy enough for two people but with the trust fund money they could have bought a house. Never known for her shyness Martha asked Sybil "Do you still have money in your trust fund?"

Sybil's eyes widen at her grandmother. "Surely Grandmama you don't think we've spent all that already?"

"We spent some on buying the flat and the furnishings but we still have over half of it left" Sybil continued.

"No holidays or expensive jewelry?" Martha replied teasingly.

"Well we did go away for a couple of days on our anniversary. It was lovely" Sybil sighed and she felt her face blushing as she recalled just how they had spent that anniversary.

"But we're trying to live on our wages" Sybil continued. "Knowing that money is there if one of us were to get sick or … there was an emergency. And one day we'll have children and we want them to be able to go to university."

Martha was impressed with Sybil's levelheadedness.

"My darling child" Martha began "I can't take my money with me so I may as well use it to make someone happy." While she didn't say it, Martha thought to herself "especially someone who doesn't expect it but does appreciate it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Downton 1930**

Mr. Murray had finally taken his leave and returned to the railway station for his journey back to London. As he waited for his train, Mr. Murray thought about the Crawleys. They still had plenty of wealth although not as great as in years past. In the last ten years or so they had sold some of their property as a way of raising cash. The house they had used for hunting parties maybe once or twice a year had been the first to go. The last had been the Dowager's house two years ago after the passing of the Dowager Countess. The cash was needed to tide them over when there were poor harvests or to buy newer and better agricultural equipment. To Mr. Murray, Matthew Crawley was a blessing for it was his development plans that had enabled the estate to be as prosperous as it was.

With Matthew at the helm, Mr. Murray had no doubt that the Crawleys would be able to sustain Downton Abbey, at least for the near future. But realistically what was the need for a hundred room home these days especially when the costs to maintain it as well as the staff to run it were so high? To Mr. Murray's way of thinking the family should have sold the abbey and moved to one of the smaller houses such as the hunting lodge or even the Dowager's house while maintaining all of the agricultural parcels for a source of income.

"There has to be something we can do" Lady Mary had remarked.

Mr. Murray knew they were hurting, he knew they had been counting on Mrs. Levinson's money to help prop up the estate, to give them a cushion for the future, but he knew he could do nothing. "I'm afraid there is nothing to be done. It is a proper Last Will and Testament."

Mr. Murray tried to put some perspective into the conversation. "As you know, so many of the estates like Downton have not made it through these last few years. However, with Matthew Crawley's guidance Downton is still prosperous. You have sold properties that you don't really need and have invested the money into the estate in ways that will be returned such as better farm equipment or consolidating farm land."

"As Mrs. Levinson noted in the will, which I hope you all will read carefully, she felt she had given enough to support an extravagant lifestyle that is no longer realistic or feasible" he continued but was interrupted by Lady Mary.

"And her lifestyle was any less extravagant?" Lady Mary raged.

Mr. Murray was glad he had been able to leave the room as soon as he had for once the shock had subsided, anger and hurt invaded the room and hung over it like a cloud. But he thought they only had themselves to blame. Robert and his daughters continued to live as if money was no object; that whatever they desired could be bought. He noted that every time he saw any of the Crawley women they were dressed in the latest fashions. In the time he had been with them this morning, not one of them, other than Lady Grantham, had seemed to be mourning the late Martha Levinson. No one had expressed any dismay regarding her death or that they would miss her in any way.

He wondered what was the greater shock, that Mrs. Levinson had not left them her fortune or that she had left the bulk of it to Sybil Crawley Branson the wayward daughter. He had never understood the family's reaction to the youngest daughter falling in love with and marrying the family chauffeur. Really how much honor would a man like Sir Richard Carlisle have brought the family? He'd have brought them wealth but not a social pedigree.

Having lost a son in the great war, Mr. Murray had no sympathy for a family that chose to willingly give up a child.

As Mr. Murray contemplated these things at the railway station, the conversation in the library never dimmed regarding what could be done to change the will of the late Martha Levinson. As soon as he had left, Mary had remarked that they should find another solicitor, one that had their interests at heart, one that would fight for what was rightfully theirs.

"Grandmama couldn't have been thinking clearly" Edith added hopefully. "Maybe her illness clouded her mind so she didn't know what she was doing."

As those gathered in the room voiced their opinions and debated their options, one person was silent.

Cora hadn't yet opened the letter from her mother. She feared she would not be able to contain her emotions and she did not want to cry in front of her family. How American that would be they'd say, we English don't show such emotion in front of others. Although she and her mother hadn't been close since Cora had moved to England all those years ago, she did love her and knew she would miss her. As the years had passed the visits between the two had lessened not because of any problems, well until that business with Sybil and the chauffeur, but time and distance did make a difference. She had fond memories of her childhood and the life she had led with her parents and brother.

However, showing tears wasn't the only reason Cora hadn't opened her letter. She suspected her mother would once again voice her opinion on Sybil; actually she was certain her mother would since most of her fortune had been left to Sybil.

Cora suspected what her mother had written to Mary and Edith. Obviously Mary and Edith hadn't read their letters that carefully nor fully comprehended what their Grandmother had written for otherwise they wouldn't be questioning the terms of the will. They still wouldn't like it and they'd still want to change it if possible but they'd know why it was done.

While the others in the room discussed what they should do, Cora, who had remained silent, suddenly stood up.

"I will not be a part of this" Cora spoke forcefully taking everyone by surprise, including herself.

"Mama?" Mary uttered at the same time Robert said "Cora?

"You've heard the wishes of my mother. My family has given a great deal of money to this estate and she had no obligation to give more. I will not contest the will. I will not be part of any plans to do so."

Her family looked at her in stunned silence for they were not used to Cora openly speaking her opinions, indeed her opinions were rarely, if ever, sought by those sitting in the library.

 **New York 1928**

Whoever said it gets easier with each child had never been through childbirth thought Sybil as she recovered from the latest contraction that had ripped through her body leaving her panting. The nurse wiped Sybil's face now glistening with sweat. It had been over three hours since she had arrived at the hospital after enduring several hours of labor at her grandmother's house.

"It will be soon dearie" the nurse tried to comfort her.

"You said that two hours ago" Sybil replied through gritted teeth as another contraction gripped her.

But the nurse was right this time and just 15 minutes later, the newest member of the Branson family entered this world.

Tom rushed to Sybil's bedside as soon as he was allowed. Pausing at the doorway, he smiled at the sight of his wife propped up on pillows holding their newborn child in her arms. The wide smile she gave Tom when she became aware of his presence made his heart skip a beat. Not for the first time, Tom thought how did I get so lucky in love and life.

"A son" Tom chuckled as he took the small bundle from Sybil to cradle in his own arms. "Well at least we won't have to call him Martha."

For the first time all morning, Sybil joined in laughing. Her grandmother, never known for her subtleness had made clear her hope that Sybil and Tom might name their unborn child Martha if it were a girl. "It's a fine American name" Martha had pronounced. "The wife of our first president was named Martha and so was Thomas Jefferson's wife. It would be a nice reminder of America when you're back in Ireland."

But it was not a name that either Tom or Sybil liked. However, Sybil was so appreciative of all her grandmother had done for her she had told Tom that maybe naming a daughter Martha would be a kind gesture. And then with a twinkle in her eye and that sly smile of hers, the one that let Tom know she had something up her sleeve, Sybil had added they wouldn't have to really call the child by that name, they could give her a nickname.

As Tom paced up and down Sybil's hospital room, cooing to his newborn son cradled in his arms, Sybil stated "I've thought of a name."

Tom stopped his pacing and turned around to look at Sybil. "I thought we had decided on Daniel Tomas if it was a boy."

"Well" Sybil began somewhat hesitantly. "I've been thinking … it would be nice to honor my grandmother in some way" she paused "and my grandfather."

"Surely you don't mean to name him Martha" Tom gasped.

Sybil laughed. "Of course not silly. But what about Martin? It could be the masculine version of Martha.

"Go on" Tom responded now sitting perched on the side of Sybil's bed still securely holding his newborn son. Sybil reached out to take her son once again in her arms.

Looking down at the sleeping bundle, she smiled at him then looked up at her husband. "I thought Martin Ira Branson. Ira was my grandfather's name." Seeing the somewhat dubious look on Tom's face she continued "Or Martin Levi … Levi short for Levinson."

Tom didn't really mind the name Martin, but Ira or Levi? Two names he was not familiar with other than the Biblical Levi. Then again that was only the middle name and who ever used that?

"My grandmother has been very good to us" Sybil reminded Tom. "And it was my grandfather that set up the trust fund for me."

Looking down at the newborn with his very dark hair and eyes the color of Sybil's, Tom thought the child did look like her side of the family not the lighter haired Bransons.

Tom reached under the blanket for his son's hand. He immediately curled his hand over his son's much smaller one. "Welcome to this world Martin Ira Branson" he cooed.

Tom and Sybil had made Martha do something they never thought she would ever be capable of, she had actually gone silent when they introduced her to Martin Ira and tears quickly glistened in her eyes. After moments of silence, in a voice so quiet, so unlike Martha, she reached out to touch her newest great-grandchild. "If you are even half the man of your father or your great-grandfather you'll be wonderful" she proclaimed.

Then she was back to full force Martha. "When will you be home Sybil dear so we can let the celebrations begin in full force?"

Sybil couldn't believe it had been a year since she, holding three year old Keela in her arms, and Tom holding the hand of their son Ronan, had stood at the railing of the ocean liner watching the sights of New York emerge in the early morning sunshine.

"I see it Daddy" screamed five year old Ronan jumping up and down as he pointed at the Statue of Liberty. "There Mama … see it?"

"Aye, son that's it." Tom was a bit amazed how excited his son was to see this symbol of America but he himself was also excited for he had never imagined coming to America.

To their surprise as the Bransons left the Customs and Immigration area, there was a man, dressed in the universal dark green livery of a chauffeur, holding a sign reading "Sybil and Tom."

"Do you think he means us Sybil?"

"Well there's only one way to know" Sybil responded. Holding the hand of her son, Sybil marched up to the man. After speaking to him, Sybil turned and nodded at her husband.

Sybil shouldn't have been surprised. When she had written to her grandmother telling her they would be moving to New York for a year while Tom filled in as the American correspondent for his newspaper, Martha had written back that her home was certainly big enough for the Bransons to stay with her. Sybil wasn't so sure that her Grandmother was really prepared to share her home with two rambunctious children but Martha had insisted. The Bransons, along with Tom's widowed cousin Mairead who came from Ireland with them to help with the children, piled into the motor car for the short drive to Martha's home on the upper west side of New York.

Both Tom and Sybil were looking forward to this year in New York. For Tom, it meant a promotion, even if only temporary, as well as a chance to show what he could do. For the most part, he would be working independently, deciding what stories to cover, possibly traveling to other American cities. Most exciting to Tom was that all his stories or articles would have the byline "Tom Branson, Foreign Correspondent."

Sybil had made arrangements to work two or three days a week at a local hospital. She was anxious to see what different methods and treatments the American hospitals were using compared to those in Ireland. However, those plans for working would be cut short since the week before boarding the ocean liner that would take them to America, Sybil discovered she was two months pregnant with her third child. While she was delighted to be having another child, she was secretly dismayed that she wouldn't be able to do as much work in New York as she had planned.

Their year in New York seemed to fly by. Tom loved his work although he had been traveling more than he expected or wanted. Sybil had enjoyed working at the New York hospital and had gained insight that she would share with her Dublin hospital when she returned. Only working two or three days a week gave her plenty of time to spend with her children and they had spent hours playing in Central Park which was just across the street from her grandmother's house.

Tom had taken a week break in late summer and the family rented a house on the beach out in Long Island. There they enjoyed playing in the surf, building sand castles, and eating freshly caught seafood. Sybil loved taking long walks on the beach and searching for sea shells with Ronan and Keela. It reminded both Tom and Sybil of the wonderful times they had spent on the Irish coast although both would admit the water here was a bit more warm.

In September, Martha went to Newport for several weeks leaving Tom and Sybil alone at the house. Although as Tom had pointed out to Sybil, they weren't really alone since there was Mairead as well as the small household staff of five that were always ready to see to their needs. By this time Sybil was no longer use to having servants around so it was an adjustment to make knowing there were others in the house. More than once, Sybil and Tom had been caught in various stages of undress.

Overall though Martha ran a much more relaxed household than Downton. Now with two young children in the house, Martha insisted the whole family would eat together informally in a small dining alcove near the kitchen which was usually only used for breakfast. Sybil had actually forgotten the custom that called for young children to be fed in the nursery until they were ten or twelve. Sybil was so glad that Martha wasn't a stickler about such things.

Martha seemed to enjoy the children and they seemed fascinated by her. Both her accent and her colorful dress seemed to catch their attention. Sybil was surprised by the attention her grandmother gave to her children. When Sybil thought of the two times she had visited New York as a child, it had been her grandfather with whom she had spent most of her time.

Sybil had enjoyed her time in New York. She loved the hustle and bustle of the city. She enjoyed Central Park which offered a much needed respite from that hustle and bustle. She had enjoyed spending time with her grandmother and through long conversations with her covering a myriad of subjects, thought they knew each other so much better after spending a year together. During Sybil's childhood she had only come to New York twice and Martha had come to Downton only four or five times, so Sybil felt in many ways Martha was a stranger to her.

Her Granny and even her sisters had always groused about Martha's loudness and brassiness but Sybil had always been secretly amused by her. She liked that her grandmother was feisty and spoke her mind. Raised in a society where social decorum was required and expected, the young Sybil found her grandmother a breath of fresh air.

Now the Bransons stood at the ship's railing, much as they had done a year before only this time Sybil held three month old Martin in her arms while Tom tightly held the hands of Ronan and Keela. They all stood there watching the skyline of New York fade as the ocean liner began its journey taking them back across the Atlantic to Ireland.

"It was a good year Tom" Sybil began.

"It was a grand year love" Tom cut in. "But I'm ready to go home."

Sybil, a few tears forming in her eyes, nodded. "I'm ready too."

Martha had accompanied her granddaughter and her family to the pier. She wanted to give them one last champagne toast. While she loved her great-grandchildren she didn't envy their parents being cooped up with the lively two older children for a week on the liner. She left little gifts for Ronan and Keela, which she had hidden in their cabin, one to be opened each day of the voyage. She had sent little Martin home with his own suitcase full of enough clothes to last him a year.

She had also given Martin his great-grandfather's pocket watch and his favorite pair of cuff links. None of her family had ever thought of Martha as sentimental but she had deeply loved her husband and felt his loss every day. She had kept many of his personal possessions such as his shaving kit, watches, cuff links and favorite books. She had even kept some of his clothing. Some items had gone to their only son Harrold but some possessions she had kept. Since Martin Ira Branson was the only great grandchild named for him, Martha though it only befitting that he should be given the pocket watch.

The quietness struck Martha as soon as she entered her house. She had gotten so use to Ronan or Keela bounding up to her in greeting when she arrived home. It had been so long since her own children, Harold and Cora, had done the same thing. The Bransons had only been gone a few hours and Martha was already missing them so keenly. She had never thought of herself as lonely but having the Bransons here had made her realize she was.

Her poker buddies had said she'd enjoy the peace and quiet once the Bransons left, but Martha had relished having them here. She enjoyed having someone to share her meals with, someone to talk to, especially the talks she had with Tom whom she found to be intelligent far beyond what his meager schooling would suggest. She was happy that he had been able to rise from chauffeur to journalist for she thought that no one should be defined by the class they were born to. Sybil reminded her of the young Cora, the Cora before she left for England and became Lady Grantham.

Martha had never hidden her feelings to Cora regarding how the Crawleys had treated Sybil, and this had caused a strain in their relationship. She wouldn't be like Cora and disown her own child, she wouldn't break off their contact although it was noticeably altered. But after a year with her youngest granddaughter, Martha's anger at the Crawleys was renewed. Arriving home from the pier, Martha made a beeline to her study for she had a letter to write.

 _A/N: I am amazed at the number of hits this story has received – the most of anything I've written! Thank you to all who have kindly taken the time to review as well as to those who have favored or followed this story (again surprisingly mostly names I've never seen before)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Again I am amazed at the number of hits this story has generated. Thank you to all who have taken the time to review. Your feedback not only helps me keep writing but can also give me ideas for the story. Based on some comments I did make changes to this chapter._

 **Downton 1930**

Cora's declaration did not have the effect she desired. Her husband and daughters tried talking to her, to "make her see reason" as they had put it. Harsh words were spoken, tempers flared but Cora's mind was made up. Rarely, if ever, had her family seen the determination Cora now exhibited. Only Matthew seemed to understand Cora's position but after receiving several harsh looks from his wife he wisely chose to remain silent.

Robert, Mary and Edith all voiced their opinions that the will was unfair to the family, that it wasn't right for Martha to leave her fortune to only one of her granddaughters. They questioned how could Martha have left the bulk of her fortune to Sybil who had chosen to leave the family. Sybil knew what was expected of her and she had chosen to break the rules of her class and her position. Didn't Cora remember the humiliation and gossip that Sybil had brought to the family, the invitations that were rescinded, the ostracism they had suffered those first few years?

But Cora had had enough. She wasn't going to listen to her family any more.

"Stop it" Cora exclaimed in a voice whose tone and loudness no one in the room had ever heard before nor in all honesty would they have even imagined she was capable of.

"Not one of you has expressed any sense of loss of my mother." Looking

directly at her daughters she continued "Neither of you could be bothered even wearing mourning clothes for one day."

"Mama" Mary began "that's not fair. We did tell you we were sorry."

But Cora wouldn't be pacified by Mary's words. Waving her hands in the air as if to erase what Mary had said Cora stared at her daughter. "You think I didn't recognize a half-hearted or insincere comment?" she practically thundered.

Robert had never seen his wife in such a state, indeed he hadn't thought she was capable of it. "Cora, be fair to them. They really didn't know Martha that well. How much time did they ever spend with her? It wasn't like my mother who they saw every day of their lives."

As he so often did, Robert had blundered into saying the wrong thing or at least something that his wife wasn't ready to hear no matter how true it may have been.

Silence descended on the room once more as Cora turned to stare out the window but Robert wasn't finished with his blundering.

"Surely you can see how it isn't right that Sybil gets everything while Mary and Edith get nothing."

Cora turned to face her husband, her eyes ablaze with anger. "How would you know what is right or not regarding Sybil?"

All eyes were riveted on Cora and she returned their stares. "At least Sybil remained in contact with my mother. She lived with her for a year in New York. She has a son named for my parents."

A look of bewilderment came over Robert's face as he digested what his wife had said. Then anger replaced that bewilderment for he thought they had agreed that when Sybil left with that man she had stopped being part of this family. "How do you know all that?" he asked accusingly.

But Cora ignored his question. "My mother had her reasons for doing what she has done."

Cora turned her stare to her daughters "Mary, Edith read your letters. I can guess what they say." Cora voice remained strong despite the pressure she was feeling.

"My mother never believed in the class system especially the peculiarities of the English aristocrats. She thought we were trying to live in the past, trying to ignore the changing world. She could never understand our treatment of Sybil. She was appalled by our actions. It has taken me a long time, but I am ashamed of what we did. We turned our backs on our daughter because she dared to love a man we didn't think worthy because he had no title or wealth."

"I covered up for you Mary when you let a man into your bed, a man you had only known for a day. I helped you carry his dead body across the house back to his own room." Mary paled at her mother's words.

"And you Edith" Cora turned to her younger daughter. "Did we abandon you when we learned of Marigold, the child of your married lover?

Edith gasped as she collapsed back down on the couch. She had never told her parents Gregson was married yet somehow her mother knew.

"We kept your secrets but we abandoned Sybil. Sybil…" Cora could feel her composure crumbling a bit but she was determined to speak her mind while thinking if only she had done so that night more than ten years ago. "Sybil is the daughter who might have brought embarrassment upon this family because her deed became public knowledge but she is the daughter that didn't disgrace me."

With that, Cora turned and hurriedly left the room leaving her family dumbstruck in her wake.

The shock of their mother's words cut deeply into both Mary and Edith. They sat on the couches opposite each other with neither looking at the other but rather both lost in their own thoughts. Never before had they been subject to such harsh words from their mother.

Edith was in shock since in all these years, her mother had given her no inkling that she knew Michael was married. She couldn't imagine how she had found out for Edith had never told anyone not even Granny or Aunt Rosamund the only ones to know about Marigold's parentage since Edith was pregnant. Did she know that the real reason he had gone to Germany was to get a divorce?

It then dawned on Edith that her mother had spoken aloud that Edith was Marigold's mother, something that although the child was now almost seven years old had never been spoken aloud, that had never been openly acknowledged by Edith. No, to all in the household, to Marigold, indeed the world, Marigold was a ward that Edith had kindly taken in.

Edith felt sick to her stomach as she suddenly realized Mary now knew but glancing at her sister Edith wasn't sure Mary had realized what their mother had said for Mary seemed lost in her own world.

It was Matthew that woke Mary from her thoughts. "Maybe you should read Martha's letter again" he quietly spoke as he sat beside his wife and gently took her hand in his.

He had been stunned that Cora would bring up that Pamuk incident. He had been on Cora's side, although in deference to his wife he kept his thoughts to himself thinking he would discuss it with her when they were alone, but he was wounded that Cora had sunk so low as to bring it up now. When he had been an active solicitor he had seen how families could be torn by the deceased's last wishes and now he felt the same was happening to his family.

But Mary didn't read her letter then. As she was wont to do, Mary wanted to be alone with her thoughts. However she did pick up the letter, shook off any support from Matthew, and walked out to her to her favorite spot in the garden.

When Edith and Mary finally read their letters, that is not the quick perusal when Mr. Murray had handed them over when they were really only looking for a check or some other indication of what she had left them, they did not take comfort in what their grandmother had written for in writing Martha had been as forthright as when she spoke. She talked about how she regretted that they had never been close yet that it seemed like it was more than an ocean that separated them. She was disappointed and hurt that they never seem to want her company, that they made fun of her "Americanism" and what they saw as her "brashness". She regretted that she never saw any "Levinson" in either of them, no they were the products of the English aristocracy and the Crawley family through and through. She reminded them that over the years she had given much to them and yet they always seemed to want more. They had frittered away their trust funds with no thought to the future.

She implored Edith to become independent and use her mind and the opportunities offered her by the business Michael Gregson had left her. With the changing world and new opportunities for women, she thought Edith could become an independent woman no longer living in the shadow of her older sister or under the limitations of what Downton offered her.

 **Dublin 1930**

"Tom what do you think this solicitor could want with me?" Sybil asked her husband as she handed him the letter she had opened earlier in the day but hadn't had a chance to discuss with her husband.

Now that it was quiet in the Branson house with all the children tucked into their beds, the supper dishes washed and put away, it was the time of day when Tom and Sybil usually retired to their library to discuss the day's activities while sipping a small whiskey. It was the time of day that Sybil had come to relish for it was just her and Tom alone like in the early days of their marriage, discussing the world, their jobs, their hopes and dreams. While she would never want, nor could she imagine, life without her children, Sybil did savor this time alone with her husband.

Taking a small sip of her drink, Sybil looked around the room she so lovingly called the library. Tom had once told her that the only thing he ever coveted from Downton, other than her of course, was her father's library. He could still recall the day he had been ushered into the library by Mr. Carson to meet the lord of the manor for the first time. He could hardly contain his excitement at being surrounded by so many books and when his lordship had told him he could borrow any book he wanted, Tom felt he was in heaven.

This room in no way resembled the Downton library other than the fact that one wall was lined with book shelves crammed with books from floor to ceiling. But it was a comfortable room thought Sybil, a well lived in room for here was Tom's desk that he spent many hours at writing his columns. In one corner was a children's sized table and chairs that they used for drawing and playing games. There was a large stone fireplace centered on on one wall with two comfortable lounge chairs and a shared ottoman facing it and this is where Tom and Sybil were now sitting with their feet propped up on the ottoman.

They had moved into this house almost two years ago. When they returned from America to their modest two bedroom flat, they realized it was just too small now with three young children. It was fine for Martin to share her and Tom's bedroom for the first few months but when he reached one year old, his parents knew they couldn't keep him in their bedroom much longer.

Tom's salary while they were in New York was much higher than it had been in Dublin but he had done such a good job that when he returned he was promoted and got a slight raise over that salary. That more than made up for the loss of Sybil's wages since she couldn't return to work while she was still nursing Martin. They had also managed to save almost all of Tom's wages while they were in New York because they had virtually no living expenses what with living with Martha.

They were able to buy this rather large house, a house far finer than anything Tom had ever lived in not counting Downton or Martha's house of course, for a good price because the owner had neglected it and it had become rather run down. While looking fine from the outside if one overlooked the overgrown bushes and weeds that comprised the small front garden, the waist high brick wall enclosing it that had fallen down in places, the rusted iron gate that hung loosely from its hinges, and the sagging roof over the front porch, the inside needed quite a bit of work. But both Tom and Sybil could see the possibilities the house offered despite its faded wallpaper and peeling paint, with its once beautiful hardwood floors, high ceilings with crown moldings, stone fireplaces and large rooms. Of course the kitchen was a nightmare with years of accumulated grease covering much of the counters and the leaking faucet in the sink.

It had taken a lot of hard work, scrubbing and cleaning as well as painting to get the house in order. They had tackled enough to make the house livable and then slowly worked their way, room by room, to make it theirs. Yet even now, almost two years later, they still had work to do but at least the house was no longer an eyesore either inside or out.

They converted a small study at the back of the house into a bedroom for Tom's mother who moved in with them. With Tom's younger sisters now married and living in their own houses, they were able to rent out all four flats of their apartment building.

Sybil was awaken from her thoughts on her home by Tom. After reading the letter from the law firm, Tom looked at his wife just as puzzled as she was. "I can't imagine." The letterhead just gave the firm's name and address but no clue as to what kind of law they dealt with.

"Can you come with me to his office tomorrow?"

Tom had a very busy schedule tomorrow and he really didn't want to take the time off but looking at his apprehensive wife, he knew he had to go with her. Hopefully it was just some minor matter and could be settled quickly.

The next morning Sybil found herself biding her time in the law firm's reception area waiting for Tom's arrival. She had told the receptionist that she didn't want to meet with the solicitor until her husband was present. He finally arrived ten minutes late.

"Are you sure?" a stunned Sybil finally managed to squeak after sitting there letting what the solicitor had said sink into her mind. "All of it?"

"There is no mistaking this" the solicitor answered matter-of-factly. "I have a copy of the will for you to take home and read thoroughly."

Tom, sitting beside his wife, was just as dumbstruck. Martha had always been generous to him and Sybil but to leave them her fortune was something that had never crossed his mind. He was then struck by the thought that maybe something had happened to Cora for after all wouldn't she have been the one most likely to inherit along with her brother.

"Has something happened to Sybil's mother, Lady Grantham?" Tom inquired earning a puzzled look from his wife. "Love, I'm just wondering why it is you and not her that is inheriting" he responded to his wife's unvoiced question.

The solicitor looked smilingly at the handsome couple before him. When he had received the will and the accompanying instructions, he had been surprised to see that the decedent had two living adult children as well as two other grandchildren yet the bulk of her fortune had been left to just this one granddaughter. Knowing that the decedent was American, he was shocked to learn that the granddaughter was an English aristocrat married to a local Dublin lad causing him to wonder what was the real story of the couple now seated before him.

"As you will see when you read the full will, there are some provisions for Lady Sybil's mother and sisters" the solicitor responded to Tom's question.

He then picked up a letter which he handed to Sybil. "I think this may explain your grandmother's actions regarding her will."

Sybil nodded as she took the envelope from the solicitor. He continued "I know this is a lot to take in. I suggest you go home, take some time to read the will and the letter, and think about what you want to do next. You will need to come up with a plan for the clinic. Additionally you need to decide what to do with your Grandmother's house and its furnishings. You will probably want to have any cash transferred here to Dublin but we will have to see exactly what other financial properties there are. My firm of course can help you in those matters when you are ready to discuss your next steps."

Tom had to return to his office so it was a shocked Sybil that returned home alone. While many people hearing they had inherited a small fortune would be planning how to spend that money, would already be visualizing the goods they would buy or the places they would travel to, Sybil wasn't that type of person. Her eyes were misted with tears as she thought of her grandmother. She was grateful they had had that year together in New York.

Though she returned home with so many thoughts rambling around in her head, she had chores to do before she could sit and think. She found her mother-in-law in the kitchen feeding the two youngest Bransons, three year old Martin and 1 year old Niamh, lunch while the older two were at school.

"Grandma took us to the park and I swung all by myself" Martin proudly told his mother while little Niamh seemed more interested in her food than her mother. But when Sybil sat down, the little girl motioned she wanted her mother to hold her.

"Is everything okay dear?" Mrs. Branson asked noting that Sybil looked like she was a million miles away and her eyes were redden by tears. Clearly there was something on her mind and Mrs. Branson hoped the solicitor hadn't given Sybil some sort of bad news.

Mrs. Branson bustled about fixing a plate for Sybil, while Sybil, now firmly holding her contended daughter, shook her head. "Actually I guess it's very good news. I'm just still trying to process it all."

Putting the plate in front of Sybil, Mrs. Branson now resumed sitting in her seat, her face full of curiosity yet knowing that her daughter-in-law would speak when she was ready.

"It was about my Grandmother, the one in America" Sybil began. Mrs. Branson nodded knowing that the woman had just died recently. She knew Sybil had been upset when she had received a letter from her grandmother telling her she wasn't feeling well and then just a month later received a telegram telling her the woman had died.

"She … she …" Sybil tried to compose herself. "She left me most of her fortune."

It took Mrs. Branson a few seconds to realize what Sybil had just said. "Isn't that good news?"

Sybil gave her a small smile. "Of course it is. It's just such a shock. I just wasn't expecting her to do such a thing …. especially since my mother is still alive" Sybil gulped "and so are my sisters."

At the mention of Sybil's mother and sisters, Mrs. Branson snorted. She had never understood how her family could abandon her. Of course it made her even madder when she realized it was because they thought her Tom wasn't good enough. They should have been honored to have a son-in-law as good as her Tom thought Mrs. Branson.

"I'm not surprised that she left me something" Sybil started "after all she's always been quite generous to me but … but to leave me almost everything … I would never have imagined such a thing."

"I have to think what to do" Sybil began. "It's not just money she left me but her house in New York and all its contents. I have to decide what to do with them."

Sybil finally smiled as she continued "She left money designated for a health clinic for mothers and children to be here in Dublin. When I was with her in New York I often talked about the lack of care for women and children."

Mrs. Branson nodded and smiled for she knew this was a subject that was dear to Sybil's heart. She had met Martha when she came to Dublin for little Martin's first birthday and had been struck by how different the woman was from what she imagined a rich American would be. Sure she was loud and opinionated but she was funny and feisty and had blended in so well with the Bransons and clearly she loved her granddaughter and her family.

After putting the children down for their naps, Sybil retreated to her library. She wanted to thoroughly read the will and the letter from Martha.

Yet as she sat there with the unopened letter in her hands, Sybil suddenly thought of her other grandmother and the deathbed letter she had written to Sybil. Throughout the years since Sybil had married Tom, she would receive small packages from Granny. At first there were no letters or even notes, but she knew from the items, jewelry or keepsakes that had captured Sybil's attention as a young child, that they were from Granny. Eventually short notes came with the packages usually explaining what significance the item had and why it reminded her of Sybil.

The last package had contained a heartfelt letter in which she stated how much she had missed Sybil over the years and that she was sorry for the way the family had treated her.

A few tears welled in Sybil's eyes. Why had Granny waited so long to tell her she was sorry? Why had she waited until she was dying? But this letter from Martha would be different because there was no reason to ask for forgiveness just as there was nothing to be sorry about.

Sybil opened the letter which was surprisingly short.

 _My darling Sybil,_

 _I have had a wonderful life full of love and adventure and have made peace with the fact that I'll soon be moving on to the next life where I hope to be reunited with Ira._

 _I see so much of myself in you – your thirst for knowledge, your sense of adventure, your desire for change in this world, your enthusiasm for life. But I also see someone far kinder and nicer than I ever could be._

 _I remember the first time I saw you. I had come to England for your first birthday. I thought you looked so much like your mother with her dark hair and bright blue eyes and lovely smile. You were so determined to walk, although quite wobbly on your feet, you never cried when you fell, but rather pulled yourself up and tried again and again. That determination has served you well in life I think._

 _You have always wanted to change the world. I think with the clinic you'll establish you can do that – while maybe not changes for the world at large at least it will make changes to someone's world._

 _I know you will spend the money wisely but do allow for a little frivolity – I know Tom's dreamed of owning a spiffy car and what about that cottage by the sea you talk about._

 _Know that you have made me very happy and I am proud of the life you have made for yourself._

 _Your loving Grandmama_

 _PS: When your daughters graduate from university know they have made me very happy and I'll be running around up here bragging about them!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Downton 1932**

Words have repercussions especially those spoken in anger or hurt or without thought. Once words are spoken they are out there. One may apologize for them or wish they had never been spoken but once said out loud words cannot be taken back.

When Cora had lashed out at her family the day Martha Levinson's will had been read, she did so without truly thinking of what she was saying. For so long, indeed probably her whole marriage, Cora had rarely spoken aloud what she truly thought.

She had only been nineteen when she had come to England for the season. At that time it was in vogue for rich American girls to do the season and, if lucky (or so it was thought at the time) to find a titled husband. That the husband might have a title but little or no wealth didn't seem to damper the enthusiasm of those Americans attending the season. No one spoke aloud that the Americans were buying a title while the English were selling their titles for much need capital to shore up crumbling estates and a way of life that would soon be archaic.

Cora thought it was different for her. Yes, it was true that the Crawleys needed the money she brought with her but Cora was in love. She found Robert Crawley to be the most dashing, handsome, and interesting man she had ever met. Granted, Cora hadn't circulated that much in New York society, so she was enthralled with the dinners and balls of London society. When Robert had proposed marriage just mere weeks after their first meeting, Cora was ecstatic.

It had been difficult at first for Cora adjusting not only to marriage but to life in England. First and foremost was the very set code of behavior for the English aristocrats which to the much more relaxed Americans such as Cora seemed rigid and perplexing. Furthermore, it didn't help when one had a mother-in-law such as the acerbic tongued Violet Crawley.

But she had adjusted and she had become one of them and she lived within the confines of those rules. Her mother had never understood those rules and how Cora could so readily accept them for it was not how she had raised her daughter. Neither Martha nor Ira Levinson had been born to wealth although not to poverty either. Unlike England, where it seemed how you were born would dictate how your life was led, America offered opportunities for those willing to work for it. The success, and its ensuing wealth, that Ira Levinson achieved happened with a wife beside him who worked just as hard as he did.

But Cora's marriage was much different from that of her parents. To her surprise, Cora had learned early in her marriage that she was not to concern herself with matters of the estate although it was her father's money that now propped up the estate; her marriage was not that of a partnership like her parents. Cora's domain was the house which she was to manage although in reality most of that work was actually done by the housekeeper. She was to be the perfect hostess for dinner parties, hunts, balls and garden parties. But her most important role of all was to be the mother of an heir which, again unlike the Americans, had to be a son.

Cora had very little to keep her busy, very little to think about; after all how much time could one spend on seating arrangements and dinner menus. Even when she had her children, she found that it was expected they would largely be raised by their nannies. However, it was the one area where Cora, despite the grumblings from her mother-in-law, did not totally conform to society as she took an interest in her children and spend many hours with them. Yet it was a life Martha would come to describe as bone idleness and she never understood how her daughter had come to accept such a life.

But in the two years since Martha's passing, life had changed for Cora. Whether it was actually her mother's death that was the catalyst or it was just the culmination, there was a marked changed in Cora. She now spent most of her time at Grantham House in London not because she wanted to be away from her family, or so she told herself, but rather that she now found life in the country to be constraining and she yearned to partake of what city life offered – museums, galleries, the theater.

She joined the boards of two museums and took a very active role in their work. She also became active in several charities dealing with health care. Her days became filled with meetings, luncheons, and charity work. She even began painting lessons. Always having an interest in gardening, she began tending to the small back garden at Grantham House which led her to meet a totally different group of people, other gardening enthusiasts, and to take outings to the many gardens of London.

One thing she didn't do was lavishly entertain. She would host meetings at her house or have a couple of friends, women she met through the museum boards or charity work or gardening enthusiasts, over for luncheon or tea but dinner parties and evening soirees were a thing of the past.

In keeping with the changed financial status of the Downton estate, Cora had only a small staff at Grantham House. There was a housekeeper who ran the house and oversaw the two women who came in twice weekly to clean, a cook, and a butler cum jack of all trades who helped with the heavy cleaning, made small repairs, and did whatever was needed of him.

Cora flourished in her new life. She was happier than she had been in years, probably since her girls were very young. Her days were filled with activities of her own choosing which didn't give her much time to think about what had happened with her family.

At first Robert wasn't sure where he fit into Cora's new life. He remembered how he felt neglected during the war when Cora had been busy with the convalescent home. Cora assured him that her new life wasn't a rejection of him, that he was her husband and she still loved him, but rather that she wanted them together to live life a bit differently than from the past. Downton was in capable hands with Matthew, and by extension Mary, she insisted. Weren't there activities he wanted to do in London she had asked. Although he tried to become involved in his men's club, Robert just didn't have the outside interests his wife did.

He did begin to read more. For a man with as extensive as a library as he had at Downton, Robert didn't read all that much. He did have an interest in ancient history and through his reading books on that subject found himself visiting the British Museum quite often to see the ancient relics and artifacts displayed there but even that soon lost its charm.

One surprise for him was that he found living away from his grandchildren made him more interested in them. They would have one of Mary's children visit for a week and would fill that time with museum outings, picnics, and walks in the parks. Marigold lived in London now and once a week Robert would spend the day with her.

But Robert found he did miss Downton and would spend long stretches there. He felt discontent that Matthew and Mary had for all practical purposes taken over the running of the estate and had to constantly remind them that Matthew was the heir but not yet the Earl. Robert would spend hours riding or walking around the estate often pausing at favorite spots to contemplate the current state of his life. In truth he pined for the past, a time when he thought he was needed by the estate and, maybe most importantly, by his family.

Matthew and Mary made a good team, he was happy to view her as a partner and they discussed and made decisions together. All her life Mary had dreamed of owning Downton and now she felt she did except for the title but she knew she would have that one day. For the most part Mary was content; more so than she had ever been although she did have dreams that one day Downton would be the grand estate it once was and hosting parties that were sought after invitations.

Mary had never forgiven her mother for what she had said that day of the reading of Martha's will. Although she herself had a sharp tongue which she used often, Mary couldn't abide anyone speaking to her in the same manner. She had tried to get Martha's will changed but in the end the terms were ironclad. Mary resented that the sister who had turned her back on the lifestyle that Downton had offered, a lifestyle that was no longer maintainable by Mary, would now be the wealthiest of the Crawleys. Even more grating to Mary was that the chauffeur was now enjoying the luxuries that money could buy.

She was glad that her mother now spent most of her time in London and in her absence was the de facto hostess of Downton although there was very little grand socializing these days. Mary couldn't remember the last time Downton had held a ball or a hunt or even a dinner party for twenty or more. Such things were too difficult with such a pared down staff. But one tradition Mary did start again was an annual garden party.

However, to her surprise her mother traveled to Downton just days before the garden party. Mary was miffed when Cora asked to see the menu and other arrangements for the party but she became riled when Cora made a few changes. In the ensuing argument between the two Cora reminded her daughter that she was Lady Grantham, Countess of Downton, and as such was the hostess for any functions held at Downton. The relationship between mother and daughter which had been frosty now grew ice cold.

Edith now spent most of her time in London running the publishing business that Michael Gregson had left to her. It provided her with a good, albeit not a wealthy, income but more importantly it gave her something to do with her time, she enjoyed the work, and she thought she was good at it.

 _Do you ever miss helping out on the Drakes' farm?_

 _It's just you seemed to have such a purpose there. It suited you._

 _It did suit me. I enjoyed it._

 _You have a talent that none of the rest of us have. Just find out what_

 _it is and use it._

None of her family had commented when Edith had inherited the business from Michael. None of them thought to ask her what she intended to do with it, would she sell it or run it herself. Was it because they didn't think she was capable or just that they didn't think of her at all. It's funny thought Edith that the only member of her family that thought she was capable of doing something was Sybil.

How Edith had envied her little sister. Everyone loved the beautiful, kind, sweet Sybil. Everyone overlooked the willful, determined and stubborn Sybil. She had everything, a grand future, a family that doted on her but it she had thrown it all away to marry a chauffeur and work as a nurse.

Edith hadn't really thought about Sybil in a long time until that day when her grandmother's will was read. When Sybil had left with the chauffeur she hadn't just broken the family, she had caused pain for her sisters. That season the whispers had become loud and the Crawleys were the subject of gossip. Invitations were rescinded. Heads were turned the other way. And it was Edith who bore the blunt of it for Mary had Matthew and didn't need the season. But Edith, the plain one, didn't have anyone. No Sybil hadn't cared what effect her actions would have on her sisters and Edith had come to hate her for it.

When Edith decided to take Marigold and move to London she didn't want to stay at Grantham House with her mother. Like Mary, Edith resented the remarks Cora had made and had never really forgiven her. Instead Edith moved in with Aunt Rosamund where she could live a life with servants that she could not afford on her own. While she did enjoy working, Edith still liked the finer things in life and that included maid service, a cook and a nanny for Marigold.

She could still move in the same social circles of the past although she was aware of the gossip concerning Marigold. It was probably only the fact that the child looked nothing like Edith, as well as the thought that Edith was the plain Crawley daughter who had never had anyone courting her, that saved her reputation. Those social circles were not the haunts of Michael Gregson so many were not even aware of him.

Aunt Rosamund did have dinner parties and always tried to invite some eligible man for Edith. But Edith was tired of being thrown at old widowers. At one time that might have been what she wanted along with her own household to run but now she longed for what she had had with Michael Gregson.

 **Dublin 1932**

When George Shane had received his latest assignment he was less than thrilled for he was tired of writing about what he considered such trivial matters, this wasn't why he had become a journalist. After covering such exciting topics as a fight between neighbors that led to the building of an unsightly fence between the two properties or how one part of the city was being overrun by abandoned dogs, he was ready for something more interesting, something that actually mattered to the readers of Dublin's leading newspaper. Granted he had only been working there for less than a year but he was eager to make a name for himself.

But to his great surprise he found that this assignment might lead to something after all for it involved Tom Branson, not only the leading political journalist at the newspaper but also the managing editor for politics. Well maybe it was a stretch to say it involved Branson since it was really his wife and her new health clinic that was the topic.

The Levinson Clinic for Women and Children was opening on Monday and George's assignment was to cover the dedication of the clinic. It wasn't until he read that the clinic was the result of the work of Sybil Branson that George realized the opportunity the story offered him. He knew from the other reporters that Branson was well respected and considered one of the best, if not the best, journalist for the newspaper as well as the editor for the political section and he was sure Tom Branson would read the story and if he was impressed then maybe it would lead to better assignments.

George was surprised that he was a little nervous when he knocked on Branson's office door. After getting a response to come in, entering the office he was surprised to see the man leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk reading a magazine. Branson looked up from his reading and nodded at Shane.

"Yes?" Tom asked in a neutral voice that gave no indication of what he thought of the young man standing hesitantly at the now open door.

"I wondered if I could have a bit of your time sir" George began trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. "I'm covering the opening of the Levinson Clinic and I'd like to talk to you about it."

Tom chuckled before responding "I think it is really my wife you should talk to."

George was surprised by Tom's response and Tom sensing this added "I think the clinic is something greatly needed and will benefit so many. While I have been privy to the plans for it, it is my wife that is the driving force behind it. I think rather than get your information second hand from me you should interview her."

George stood there somewhat surprised that a man would so willingly acknowledge his wife's role while minimizing his own. Before he could formulate what to say next Tom shifted in his seat putting his feet back on the floor and threw the magazine on top of his desk.

"Just what do you plan to cover in your article?" Tom asked.

"I thought I'd do some background on the clinic … how it came to be … write a little bit about who the Levinson's are and why they've donated a clinic in Dublin." As Tom nodded, George continued "then about what it is hoped the clinic can achieve and a bit about the people it will serve."

"I'm enormously proud of what my wife has achieved. It hasn't been as easy as one thinks to get such a project actually up and running." George could tell by the look on Tom's face that he meant what he was saying.

The next morning, George found himself standing on the front porch of the Branson house. Inheriting a fortune had made very little change in the way the Bransons lived. They still lived in the house they had bought in 1928 although some of the much needed repairs had finally been made by workmen hired by Sybil and Tom rather than through their own sweat and labor. The house had gone from the eyesore of the block to one of the finer looking houses on the wide tree lined street.

The greatest changes in the house were its modernization. It was completely rewired for electricity allowing the Bransons to buy the newest home appliances such as the refrigerator and washing machine. Central heating was installed. Sybil didn't consider any of this luxuries but rather adapting to modern times.

Once they had digested their changed circumstances financially due to the late Martha Levinson's will, Sybil and Tom decided not to let anyone know the extent of their new wealth. They had agreed that the money would not alter their current lifestyle. They wouldn't buy a bigger house or a mansion in the countryside, they wouldn't purchase new wardrobes or have Tom's suits tailored by the best shops in Dublin, both would continue to work at their current jobs. They wouldn't suddenly start hobnobbing with Dublin's grand society such as it was.

They would instead spend the money wisely with the knowledge that their financial future was secure. They would be able to send all their children to university. They would help Tom's family to do so also if any of their nieces or nephews so desired. Sybil had considered going to medical school to become a doctor but in the end decided that she didn't really want to devote so much time and effort that it would take to make that a reality.

The only purchase they had made which might be considered a luxury was a motor car. For his birthday in 1931, Sybil took Tom to a dealership to buy their first motor car. While Tom dreamed of owning a roadster, Sybil pointed out such a motor car wasn't very practical for a family of six so unless he was planning on never taking the children for outings they would have to buy a larger sedan. Tom momentarily talked about what fun it would be for Sybil and him to take off by themselves, what fun they could have in the car, how it would be like in the early days of their courtship, but in the end of course took his wife's practical advice.

George was surprised that it was Mrs. Branson herself who answered his knock since he expected a house this grand would have servants. She was holding a baby with curly blonde hair and big blues who nestled her face into her mother's shoulder after taking a quick look at George.

"She's not feeling very well today" Sybil remarked as she gently rubbed the child's back. "I think she's teething so don't worry it's nothing contagious."

Still holding the child, Sybil led George into a room that looked like a study or library. "I think we'll be more comfortable in here" Sybil said as she indicated him to take one of the lounge chairs that faced the stone fireplace.

An older woman, who George noted Sybil called Ma, entered the room carrying a tray with tea and an assortment of biscuits. As she laid the tray on a side table she looked at Sybil and smilingly reached out to take the child. "I'll take the young one."

Just then a little girl who had a striking resemblance to Tom skipped into the room "Ma can we go to the park today?"

"Maybe after lunch Niamh but I need to talk to this gentleman first" Sybil replied as she tousled the child's hair. "You go with your grandma and help her with Claire."

Once they were settled with their tea, George began asking Sybil questions but any nervousness he had was quickly dissolved by her friendliness and open manner. It was obvious that the clinic meant so much to Sybil and she really didn't need any prodding by George to talk about it.

The only time he felt any hesitation in Sybil's talking was when the subject turned to her family. While she talked glowingly of her American grandparents whose money was funding the clinic, she declined to talk about her own parents. "They have nothing to do with the clinic" was her only comment and it was obvious that there would be no further discussion of them.

Nor did she seem to want to discuss her life although she did talk about being a volunteer nurse during the Great War and that had made her decide it would be her life work. She had earned a nursing degree in Dublin.

While Sybil seemed very happy with how she thought the clinic could provide much needed care, she seemed especially proud of the role women would play in the clinic. George had never really thought about the difficulty women faced in working, especially married women or those with children. Sybil had taken great pains to ensure that the clinic employed several women doctors.

In addition, whether or not a woman was married or had children would not be a factor in hiring either a nurse or a doctor. She herself, a married woman with five children, would be working part time at the clinic as a nurse. She had hired an administrator to actually run the clinic although as the person controlling the finances, Sybil would be involved in all aspects of the clinic.

George wasn't surprised to see Tom at his wife's side at the dedication ceremony along with the three youngest Bransons and Tom's mother. Tom proudly looked on as Sybil talked to the gathered crowd about the goals of the clinic as well as a bit about the Levinsons.

As he listened to Sybil talk George noticed a well dressed woman standing near him in the back of the crowd. With her elegant clothes and manner he thought she stood out from most of those around her. Thinking she might be another benefactor of the clinic, George sought to interview her.

When Sybil led most of the crowd into the examining rooms, the woman did not follow but remained standing still. It was only after most everyone else had left that the woman walked over to the wall which had a plague stating

 _The Levinson Clinic for Mothers and Children_

 _Dedicated to the people of Dublin by Ira and Martha Levinson_

After touching the plaque, the woman looked at the two display cases on either side of the plaque that held photographs along with text. Tears seemed to gather in her eyes as she viewed a photograph of the Levinsons with Ira holding a six year old Sybil.

"Did you know them?" George finally inquired.

Rather than answering the question the woman continued to look at the photographs. George sensed that she was too focused on them to realize he had spoken to her.

Finally she turned as if to leave and becoming aware of George standing by her, she smiled at him "I think it's a wonderful legacy to leave behind."

Surprised by her American accent George asked her again if she had known the Levinsons.

With tears welled in her eyes she slightly shook her head yes. "They were wonderful people."

She turned back to look at the display once again. "I think they would be very pleased by what Sybil has done here. They'd be very proud of her."

She paused and then in a voice so quiet George could barely hear her "I'm so proud of her." With that she then turned and walked out of the clinic.

 _I hope you have enjoyed this story. I appreciate the reviews and want to again thank all those who reviewed as well as those who followed or made this story a favorite. I imagine this story didn't end in the way many of you envisioned but I think every now and then it's nice to leave something for the reader's imagination to take hold of._


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